Page 74 of The King of Hearts (The Raven Group #1)

My gut tightens when I think about what they’ve done to Savina.

I don’t know the type of man my uncle is, but I can guess.

He took Aiden when he was seven and raised him.

He groomed a child and turned him into a twisted man who sexually abused another child for years.

Aiden learned that behavior from personal experience, accepted it, and even let it flourish once he was old enough to stop our uncle.

He doesn’t get a pass because of what was done to him.

Apparently, our family is filled with pedophiliac monsters, and it makes me sick to my fucking stomach knowing I have their blood running through my veins.

I have my own deviant vices due to what was done to me as a child.

I like blood and dishing out pain. I get immense fucking pleasure seeing a person’s face twist with discomfort, knowing I’m the reason they feel it.

Especially when it comes to my vicious angel.

Fucking her hard and without mercy, destroying her cunt with my fingers and cock, forcing her to take it even when it becomes too much.

I fucking live for the pained look on her face. It’s my fucking happy place.

And when she bleeds for me? Seeing that red, life-sustaining substance drip from her body. It gives me a high nothing else can.

My depravities are from my time spent with Aunt Rosa.

She molded me into the sadist I am. But the difference between Aiden and me is that he let his experience warp him into something worse than his own abuser.

I get sexual gratification from inflicting pain and blood, but I don’t let it control me.

And I don’t fucking touch children. There are limits you don’t cross, and even thinking about touching a child is at the top of the list.

When I get to the door my father mentioned, the grip I have on my gun tightens as I twist the knob.

I have zero expectations of what’s on the other side, because it doesn’t matter.

Maybe I won’t even make it through the door before there’s a gun shoved in my face.

If I die, then so be it. There are seven of us and only two of them.

Assuming my brother and uncle are working alone.

With those odds, they can’t take us all out before we take them out.

Savina will get out of here. Whether it’s in my arms or someone else’s.

The kitchen is brightly lit when I step inside the room. It’s clean with sleek surfaces, outdated appliances, and dark wood counters and cabinets. I barely spare it a glance as I move through the space and head to another doorway, which, according to my father, should lead to the dining room.

This room is small with a cherry oak six-seater table. The walls are painted the same light gray as the kitchen, and the floors are a light-brown tile. On the other side of the room is another doorway, and that’s where I go.

Impatience has my strides lengthening. At the doorway, I peek around the frame. Several doors line the hall, three on the left, two on the right. So far, our trek through the house has been silent, so I strain my ears and listen carefully. I hear nothing, which is either a good sign or a bad one.

“The master bedroom is the last door on the right,” my father’s quiet voice reaches my ears.

With my jaw clenched and my finger grazing the trigger, I step out into the hallway and head in that direction. I pause at each door I pass, pressing my ear against it. When I reach the last one on the right, silence is all I hear on the other side of it.

I step back from the door, my body tensing. They may know we’re here so the element of surprise is off the table, but I can still make a fucking explosive entrance.

I lift my leg and slam my foot against the hardwood door.

It bangs open, the bottom hinges dislocating, and crashes against the wall.

The room is dark with only a tall lamp in one corner that doesn’t give enough light to see much.

I step inside, my eyes immediately going to the bed.

It’s cast in the shadows, so I can’t see if Savina is on it, but instinct tells me she is.

“Such dramatics,” a voice comes from a darkened corner of the room.

I have my gun up and pointed in that direction in the next second. I want nothing more than to go to Savina, but out of the shadows, I see the glint of a gun, and it’s aimed toward the bed.

“You better hope to fuck she’s alive,” I grit out between my teeth.

He stays in the dark when he replies. “Let me guess. You’ll shred me to pieces and pluck the bones from my body if she isn’t.”

“Fucking amateur. There are much more interesting ways to die and to draw out the torture for days.”

“Seems your way is to simply shoot a person since you’re pointing a gun at me.”

“This is just to maim. The fun part comes later.”

“Ahh… so you do enjoy blood and gore. Grant told me as much.”

“Let her go, Theo,” my father says, stepping up beside me with his own gun out and pointing in the same direction. “This is between me and you.”

“So my brother managed to leave his deathbed,” Theo remarks. “I was a little sad when I decided to leave you in that basement to finally die alone. I wanted to invite you to this little get together, but it would have been difficult to transport you here. How did you escape?”

“Stop this madness. Matteo and his wife have nothing to do with this vendetta you have against me. Let them and the others leave and you can do whatever the fuck you want to me.”

“Sorry, brother, not good enough.” Theodore steps out of the shadows and faces us both.

Despite the ragged appearance of my father, which probably makes him look older than he actually is, I can tell that Theodore is the eldest of the two.

“You took something you shouldn’t have. Vivian was mine.

You haven’t paid nearly enough for taking her from me.

” His eyes move to me. “And your youngest killed our dear sister. It was all so perfect when Rosa moved in. She got to have her fun with little Matteo, adding to my plot of revenge. Then he had to fuck it all up by killing her. He has to pay for that.”

I glance at the bed when there’s a small whimper, but it’s too goddamn dark to see anything. I take a step toward the bed when I hear the click of Theodore cocking his gun.

“Another step and she’s dead, nephew.”

“You robbed me of my fucking son in retaliation,” Antonio says, pulling Theodore’s attention back to him.

I barely pay them any mind, my focus trained on the gun and that bed.

“Wasn’t that enough? When are you going to get it in your sick head that Viv was never yours?

She chose me, Theo. Not once did she show interest in you. ”

“I don’t give a fuck if she chose you. The bitch was mine regardless. I took your precious firstborn because he was supposed to be mine,” Theodore says angrily. “Vivian was mine. She was supposed to be my wife, and the bastard you created with her was supposed to be mine .”

Anger vibrates through my bones listening to this shit. It’s all because of a family feud between two brothers wanting the same woman. My wife has endured God knows what because of greed and a sick sense of ownership. I want to kill both of the bastards and hack their bodies into pieces.

“Let them go, Theo,” my father repeats his demand. “You’ve got Aiden and you’ve got me. You’ll never get your hands on Viv, so just give up.”

His lips curl into a creepy grin. “It’s amusing that you say that, my dear little brother, because I have had Vivian.

That night, all those years ago, after I sliced ribbons all over your body, I fucked her long and hard.

I used her cunt until her blood coated my cock.

She cried for you, screaming your name as I tore through her body, all the while you laid there a foot away. ”

Blinding rage filters through my veins and the tendons in my joints scream at me to grab this asshole and kill him with my bare hands.

My father tenses beside me, and I reach out a hand and grab his arm.

I don’t know what’s going through his mind right now, but it can’t be anything good.

Hearing what we just did, I don’t know if my father’s mentally capable of holding himself back.

Doesn’t matter how weak he appears. Knowing his wife was raped as he laid nearby unconscious would push even the strongest man over the edge and have him reacting irrationally.

She’s my mother, and I’m barely holding myself back.

If I were in his shoes, I’m not sure if I’d be capable.

But we need to keep calm. That fucking gun is still pointed at the bed. A slight twitch and my wife is dead.

Theodore watches us with pure delight in his expression, enjoying the destruction he’s just caused my father. There are so many ways I want to destroy this man, each one more painful and bloody than the last.

“That’s not even the best part,” Theodore continues.

His hand lowers the slightest bit when he leans forward like he’s telling a secret.

“The bitch got pregnant and what little sanity she had left after I was done with her shoved her right over the edge. She was committed to the psych ward and stayed there until the baby was born. I took that child, too, and gave her to Grant to play with. By then, I had him broken in, so he was all too happy to have his own little fuck toy.”

Jesus fucking Christ.

Right as I tighten my fingers around Antonio’s bicep, he slips out of my grip and lunges forward.

“Fuck!” I yell and leap after him.